


I Think That Table's Going to Collapse, Mate

by colisahotnorthernmess



Category: British TV Celebrities RPF, Find It Fix It Flog It RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Neck Kissing, Not Getting Caught, Semi-Public Sex, Sex on Furniture, slightly PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 05:52:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16257986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colisahotnorthernmess/pseuds/colisahotnorthernmess
Summary: Following on from my last fic, which was 'a bit of fluff where two men kiss in a barn' - here we now have a bit of smut where two men do filthy things to one another in a barn! Or, really, any excuse to have these two in something slightly PWP-y because I adore the show and think they're both rather gorgeous and shippy.Simon has his wicked way with Henry on a trestle table.





	I Think That Table's Going to Collapse, Mate

Henry tried to make himself as comfortable as possible as his back was pressed up against the planks of timber. He'd found himself lying on all manner of contraptions in this past month - a myriad of surfaces, from the gnarled tops of vintage workbenches, the vice handles digging into his back, to folding stepladders, the rungs of which making the most bumpy and horrible bed imaginable for himself and Simon to lie on - and it occurred to Henry that, for _some_ reason, despite having seen them in _countless_ skips, no-one ever seemed to have a lovely old, bouncy mattress lying around in their shed, did they?

Even so - it had been, dare he say, one of the most _exciting_ years of his life. A motorbike ride of zipping down the country lanes at breakneck speed had nothing on the sheer thrill of _nearly_ being caught in this barn with Simon - his naughty, wandering hands all over his undressed body.

He yelped as he was further pushed back onto the table, the wobbly weak legs nearly buckling - that was the table's legs and not _his_ \- with the object threatening to give way beneath him. The huff of relief expelled as the thing stabilised was mistaken for a groan of desire by O'Brien - and so the younger man impatiently began to undo the buttons on Cole's jeans. Inevitably, Henry would almost always say, "Si, we can't do it here, mate." And, inevitably, Simon would almost _always_ convince him that they could.

Cole stared at the ceiling of the shed, watching how the light would shine in through the cracks in the roof where the sheets of corrugated iron would meet and were poorly joined together. And he groaned, for real this time, as the presenter tugged on his leather belt.

"Fuck... S--Si... Somebody's going to come in if we're not careful," he stuttered, though it was as much of a shiver as anything - it was a tad on the chilly side and Simon was now removing his clothes.

"Naahh," came a smile so devilish that it just melted him. He saw it out of the corner of his eye. And, as Si began to clamber upon the table top alongside him, Henry - for a second - did feel the need to stop him.

"I thought you were taking this trestle as your first item?" he asked.

"I will... if it's still intact."

God, Henry just loved the way Si had said that - he loved the _way_ he caught the 'c's in the back of his throat. How could you refuse a man who asked you for a 'quickie' (or, indeed, 'quicchhie') in a Scouse accent? Simon only had to open his mouth and Henry was in love. And, speaking of which, that was _exactly_ what Si was now doing, as - with one knee on the table, he began to kiss and caress Henry's thighs with his mouth and tongue from the ground up, tasting unwashed, motorcycle oil-covered denim until he reached the open fly at the top of Cole's jeans.

"You're going to knacker this table if you get on it, son," Henry told him, hands cradling the back of his head, fingers carding through short grey hair.

"So what? There's plenty of other stuff--" he interrupted himself as he finally pulled at the 'V'-shaped opening of light blue material, tugging down the boxers therein and bringing out the biker's half-hard cock. He lapped at the head.

"Ohh--"

"--In here to choose," O'Brien finally finished.

"Shit," Henry moaned as Si continued to suck his dick, the organ hardening further with every swipe of the tongue. He took it to the back of his throat, slippery liquid guiding it back and forth, as he repeated the hungry, devouring motion over and over again. Until Henry was fully erect and standing to attention. Simon then momentarily took his mouth away, the recipient sharply exhaling in response.

"Don't worry - I haven't finished," Si smiled, wiping saliva from the edge of his mouth. "I just can't wait to kiss you," he said, finally mounting the table and climbing across it to lie above Henry's prostrate frame.

"We're going to get caught," Henry warned him. "We _are_ \- somebody's going to--" he couldn't complete the sentence, having been cut off by Simon's lips kissing him, passionately, and Si's tongue breaching his mouth. He ran a glove-clad thumb tenderly over his chin as he _tried_ , in vain, to address him.

"I don't care," the Liverpudlian gasped, between kisses, "I want you." The kisses in question soon moved from Henry's mouth to Henry's neck, with Simon's razor teeth dragging across his skin as he came up to bite the fleshy part of his earlobe.

"This is driving me wild," O'Brien blurted, quietly, in Cole's ear, and it was all that Henry could hear - Simon's desperate heavy breathing, his craving to savour his partner's skin; the desire to taste the nape of his co-star's neck, nuzzling the spines of his beard and revelling in the piercing feel of hairs scraping against his own clean-shaven jawline. He squealed, surprised by the sensation of it; he was just like an excitable puppy, practically _panting_ , and lavishing heaps of physical attention upon what was a rather _grateful_ owner. Over all of this audible commotion, Henry could hear only the sound of one thing: Simon's zip being taken down.

The older man reached down grasped the rigid protrusion poking out between his friend's legs. He yearned to touch it, but he couldn't take his gloves off due to constraints, and so he allowed Si's cock to meet with the bare exposed skin of his wrist, his shirt having ridden up as he had lied down upon the table - so _keen_ to feel the heat emanating from his co-presenter's firm and unyielding erection - and it was so _hot_ ; this whole ridiculous situation was hot; Si was _unbearably_ hot and it made Henry blush to _admit_ it.

In fact, Simon was _so_ hot, he hissed - like an engine cooling down - the engines Cole so regularly enthused over when they went hunting in these sheds - when Henry grabbed his hard member once again and began to squeeze.

The two of them played with his dick together, and the combination of a warm, sweat-slick palm and the woolly fabric of Henry's glove was a heady mixture and Simon was finding it overwhelming. He was coming undone; he was lost in the crazy pleasure for a moment, but the Shed and Buried presenter soon brought him back down to earth with a hard, rough and demanding kiss. Cole's glasses had steamed up; he should have taken them off, really. But that was irrelevant now. The pair were kissing like teenagers and their hands were all over each other, certain parts of their anatomy being a particular focus.

And still, for Henry, it was hard to hear anything for the sound of blood rushing to his own head and the harsh ragged breaths coming from Si as he writhed wantonly against him, but he was sure now he could hear someone approaching the shed - it was a very distinct noise of boots crushing crispy leaves as they trod over the paving stones. "Si, somebody's outside," he found himself almost shouting, which was the last thing he wanted to do if truth be told - he didn't want alert the owner of the grounds to what they were doing.

"I'm so close," Simon whined, exasperated, "Oh God, Henry..."

"Ohh yes, mate," he encouraged him. "Do it for me," came an enthusiastic moan which brought O'Brien all the closer. By this point, Henry had taken his own hand away, leaving Simon to bring off himself, choosing instead to wrap his arm around his beloved Si and hold him tightly, lovingly.

"Uhh... yeah," there was a grunt as he came, spraying his seed over Cole's clothed stomach, in small puddles of warm, sticky ejaculate. Henry knew that soon his shirt would be cold, wet and uncomfortable, but it was worth it to see Si satisfied. He hastily pulled his gilet over the stains, zipped himself and sat up, gently pushing Simon off of him. His lover was still glossed over, glassy-eyed from orgasm, and not quite knowing how to stand.

"Come on, Si," in hushed tones, he urged him to get off and get dressed - anyone walking in simply _couldn't_ find them like this.

Simon staggered backwards, as if he was drunk - and he was, sort of - drunk on lust for Henry. "What about you?" he slurred, still dazed.

"Next time, sweetheart," he pulled Si back to the table, momentarily, as he sat there with his legs dangling off the edge, to kiss him one last time for now. But, alas - Henry was right and they have would to part for the time being - at _least_ part by six feet or so, as not to give anyone the wrong impression. Because Cole was right - someone _was_ opening the large wooden door. They could hear clumsy hands fiddling with the latch. It soon flew open and a man ambled into the barn to see how the two were getting on.

"How's it going, boys?" the Cornish farmer chimed.

"Fi--Fine," Simon stammered, pretending to busy himself.

"Faaabulous," he beamed. "Oi, Henry - why you lyin' on that taaable?"

"Just seeing if it'll take my weight," he replied, bouncing up and down as if testing the strength of the table.

"Well... I wouldn't if I were you, laaad. Terrible woodworm in them legs," the man told him.

Simon and Henry could not help but share a knowing smirk. The pair were trying to stifle their laughter, covering their faces with their hands, and sniggering all of the while.

"Yeeaah," he added. "Surprised it 'aasn't collapsed already... You know, if I'm being 'onest! Just don't jump on it too 'aard, whatever you do, laaad... It might break!"


End file.
